29 July 2009

Eighteen hundred air miles and six hours in not-made-for-comfort airplane seats took us to Chicago for a week.

Didn't take a camera (so sad, really). How did that happen? I needed, no...longed, pined, craved for, my camera.

There were fireflies, city rats, three-foot narrow spaces between lovely narrow two-and-three-story brick houses leading to secret gardens in the back, ornate iron gates, brownstone houses that would make your knees weak, sidewalk fairs, Chicago "dipped" beef sandwiches with cheese and hot peppers requiring half-a-dozen napkins per person, the Newberry Library book sale, fresh beet salad (beets gathered at a farmers market), spectacular afternoon thunder storms, sidewalk cafes with some seriously amazing foods, card playing into the wee hours of the night, rib-sticking German food (complete with live polka music and a dance floor), an evening at the Steppenwolf Theatre to see "Up", and an evening with family, friends, wine, with my husband's own recipe made-from-scratch beef wellington dinner.

A few facts to share:

:: second, third, and fourth story walk-ups have steep, narrow stairs that list ever so slightly to one side.

:: everyone I know in Chicago lives up these stairs.

:: neither wine nor beer improve the ability to trek these stairs.

:: people who live in Chicago are used to walking and traveling in distances measured in minutes and blocks (and in the case of using a cab, in dollars), not miles.

:: cities are noisy and have a cornucopia of smells (let me just say, not all good).

So you want to know?...

My daughter calls me "the crazy lady who talks to strangers". It may be so, but I don't always start the conversation...well, mostly I do, but if you spent huge quantities of time with elementary students every day, you would too.